Bruno

I try pulling at the chains that tie my hands to the pole in the middle of the tent. They clatter loudly, and I freeze. I wouldn't want any more soldiers dropping in to check on me. I've had enough of them kicking me about today.

They weren't too aggressive. Sometimes they would just poke jokes at me, ask me how was it to keep Hadrian a hostage, how often did I fuck him, whether he was as good in bed as rumors had it. When I didn't answer, they hit me.

I welcomed the pain. It kept me distracted.

A fool. I was such a fool! What have I imagined? How could I have possibly allowed myself to become attached to someone like Hadrian—the least reliable, the least decent person out of everyone I ever knew? Everything he did and said was one big performance, and I bought into it.

I can't even hate him. It's like hating a dog for biting. He was just acting according to his nature, and it was my fault that I placed myself within his biting range. I can only be angry with myself for letting him fool me.

I close my eyes and listen. Since the darkness fell, the camp has gradually become quieter. There're still occasional voices and footsteps outside, and the sounds of distant conversations and the nickering of horses. I squeeze my eyes tighter as if that could help me escape the reality, but, as exhausted as I am, sleeping is impossible. My mind is stuck in a loop, replaying today's events and the days I spent with Hadrian, labeling his every word and every smile and every confession as fake, fake, fake.

There're steps outside again, approaching my tent. I shift and sit straighter, leaning with my back against the pole. They must've decided to use me as a punching bag again. I don't mind that. I feel so bad inside that I crave physical pain.

Someone throws the flap of the tent open. The light from a nearby campfire blinds me momentarily, and then it's dark again, except that now I'm not alone. A man is standing by the entrance, his hands crossed on his chest, his long cape streaming down from his shoulders.

"Awake?" he says.

Hadrian. I stare up at him, waiting for his face to come into focus as my eyes adjust. Even now that he's here, I don't feel anything but numbness.

"Not talking to me?" he says.

"Why did you come?" I say.

He shrugs. "I figured they might have forgotten to feed you, so I brought you this." He tosses something in my lap, and I smell bread. I pick the slice up and take a bite.

"How about 'thank you'?" he says. "You were always bitching about my thanklessness."

"Come here," I say. "I'll whisper my gratitude in your ear."

He chuckles and walks about the tent, keeping a safe distance from me. Eventually he stops and leans with his back on one of the poles.

"Don't be grumpy," he says. "I hope you didn't believe what I said about punishing you. I have no such intentions. Perhaps I could even find you a position at my court. I haven't forgotten what you've done for me. I'm not that thankless."

I just keep on chewing.

"Oh come on." He shifts impatiently. "Bruno, what did you expect? That we would live in a forest for the rest of our lives, fucking like rabbits, eating the goddamn fish and asparagus? That I could become a regular peasant? There's royal blood in my veins, have you forgotten?"

"It's just blood," I say. "It looks the same."

He pauses, then speaks again, slowly, choosing his words.

"I'm about to become a king, Bruno. The crown is to be handed to me on a silver plate. I couldn't have refused such an offer. It's everything I ever wanted."

"No, it's not," I say. "You wanted to prove yourself to your father. What you're doing now is an attempt to impress a dead man who's never cared about you anyway." I'm realizing those things as I'm saying them, and, judging by his stunned silence, they hit the target.

"I didn't expect to live in the forest forever, but I was..." The word 'happy' almost tumbles from my lips, but I catch it, surprised. Was it happiness, that unfamiliar sensation that I started to feel in the last few days with him? "I felt...content," I finish. "I felt like it was going to work out. Like we could find a place in the world where we could just live and..." I trail off and shake my head. "I'm a fool. You can laugh at me now."

He keeps quiet for a while, his expression unreadable in the dark. Then, he speaks again.

"I don't want to laugh," he says quietly. "I want to cry."

He walks over and lowers himself to the ground next to me. He's close enough for me to grab him, but I don't move.

"Bruno." His voice is shaky, laced with some suppressed emotion. "Can you tell me... Do you think... " He swallows and then whispers so quietly I can barely make out the words:

"Have I made a mistake?"

Before I can answer, there're footsteps, and the tent flap is raised again, and held to the side by someone's hand. The person standing in the entrance peers inside, trying to see in the dark.

"Your highness?" he says. "Lord Dwennon is waiting for you in his tent. They want to begin the attack."

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